Putting Her Foot Down
by et voila 1312
Summary: Grace decides she's finally had enough. rated K for some language. No Jane at all in this one. Some unintentional RigsPelt at the end. Spoilers for "Red Line" and "Aingavite Baa". Oneshot.


**A/N** – I have had this brewing in my head for years, since "Red Line", and _especially_ after "Aingavite Baa" (still have _no_ idea what that means). It actually surprised me that there weren't any stories like this; the only one that I've seen that even touched on it was _Someone_ _Else's_ _Life_ by Wldwmn (**LOVED **that one!). Also, I know that this is _very _OoC; while Van Pelt is strong, capable, and can certainly kick ass, she could also be very mousy (or at least she _**was**_), and I wanted to see, just once, her telling someone to mind their own business!

And…I never really liked Hightower; I always found her kind of….icy.

**Disclaimer**: sigh if only; that privilege goes to a different woman….

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Putting Her Foot Down

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The Mentalist

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Grace waited with patient trepidation as she sat in the leather chair in Agent Hightower's office. Her blue eyes dartingly took in the spacious room: the brick walls, the plain, light-brown carpet, the fichus in the corner behind the desk, the decorative art on the opposite wall, the various photos of her children scattered about. While certainly not extravagant, the extra touches did add a little hominess to the present department head's otherwise cookie-cutter office. Sitting in the two chairs next to her, Lisbon seemed oddly subdued, her dark head bowed, eyes downcast, while Rigsby nervously played with his fingers.

"I've been meaning to address this issue for a while, but there's been so much coming across my desk I haven't had time. First off," the attractive African-American woman began crisply, "neither of you is denying you're in a sexual relationship. Are you?" she asked bluntly_, _more statement than question.

"No, ma'am," Rigsby answered quietly.

"No," Grace replied, wondering where this was going. Hadn't they already had this lecture once from Lisbon? And hadn't she given them a pass? Told them to keep their relationship hush-hush with a 'don't ask-don't tell' deniability?

"You work together, you develop feelings," Hightower reasoned amiably. "Nothing wrong with that, but," she continued, her tone changing, "you know very well it's against CBI rules, and as I tell my kids, 'rules are rules'. If you want to stay together, that's your choice, but one of you has to transfer out of the unit. If you both want to stay in the unit, you can't be together. That's what it is. Do I make myself clear?" she demanded, but continued before anyone could speak. "Give me your decision tomorrow at the latest," she finished matter-of-factly, sitting back in her chair.

Grace could feel herself seething, the blood beginning to pump angrily through her, her teeth grinding together, her cheeks growing warm. It wasn't a sensation she was used to; she was, by nature, a very calm, easy-going person, not easily provoked.

'She is giving us an _ultimatum_…a _deadline_? Grouping us in with her _children_?' she silently fumed_._ 'And now she's leaning back in her chair, looking at us like we're recalcitrant, misbehaving, little kids who needed to be scolded and knuckle-rapped and sent to stand in the corner? I can understand Boss calling me and Rigsby out on this; she's the unit leader, it is her job, and it looked like it actually pained her to do it at the time. I don't think she really wanted to break us up. But _this_? This is the last straw; I am a grown woman, Rigsby is a grown man, _we _are in-love, consenting adults.' These racing thoughts spurring Van Pelt into action, she took a deep, focusing breath, and braced herself.

"Yes, ma'am, you've made yourself perfectly clear," she said.

"Good," Hightower replied with a tight smile, obviously satisfied.

"I don't need until tomorrow afternoon," Grace said, standing up. "I quit," she announced.

Suddenly the whole room went dead silent, and she now had the attention of _everyone_ in the office, including Lisbon, whose mouth fell open and whose green eyes widened in stunned shock, and especially Agent Hightower, whose own dark head snapped up at the young agent's brazen announcement.

"I beg your pardon?" she demanded, clearly taken aback.

"Grace," Rigsby whispered in alarm, his wide brown eyes darting nervously from Van Pelt, to Hightower, then back to Van Pelt again. "What are you doing?"

Lisbon just gaped at her, speechless.

"You've made yourself 'perfectly clear'," Van Pelt repeated, making air quotes, and crossed the few steps to stand right in front of Hightower's desk. "Now let _me_ make _myself_ _perfectly_ _clear_," she began, in a tone none of them had ever heard coming from her.

"I was hired by the CBI in good faith to do a job, and I am _good_ at my job. I may still be considered 'the rookie' on my team, but I am, nonetheless, a valued member of that team. I am also a _grown_ _woman_," she voiced the thoughts which had just been racing through her mind, "and who I choose to spend _my_ time with, off-hours, and away from the office, is nobody's business but _mine_, and it is certainly not for you, or anyone else, to tell me otherwise."

She looked Hightower square in the eyes, furious light-blue meeting stunned dark-brown. "You don't dictate who I date."

She paused for only a brief moment to take in a recharging breath and reign in her anger somewhat.

"I can understand Agent Lisbon reprimanding Rigsby and me about it; she's our superior, it's her job, and she knew she'd catch hell, possibly even risk her own job if she didn't. So for me, that's neither here nor there. I don't blame her. But for you, to call us to the mat like this, like we were naughty children, and tell us 'you can keep your jobs _or_ you can have your relationship', is not only insulting to me as a professional, it's also presumptuous and disrespectful. Now, I won't presume to speak for him," she gestured at the tall man seated behind her, "but I _love_ Wayne," Grace declared vehemently, "and I'm pretty sure he still loves me too, and I cannot turn off or ignore my feelings for him just because 'rules are rules'," she finished assertively.

She stared defiantly at Hightower for another split-second_, _then spun on her heel, ignoring the steel-jawed look of disbelief on the black woman's face. Reaching the door, she turned again, nearly walking right into Lisbon, who had stood and turned to follow her out.

"I am a good detective," she added calmly, confidently, her anger vented. "My teammates know it, Agent Lisbon knows it, and my record speaks for itself. I'm sure any law-enforcement agency would be glad to have me, and would respect me enough to not interfere in my personal life."

She gazed at the floor for a second, something occurring to her, then lifted her gaze back to Hightower.

"And I highly suggest you _not_ try to blackball me around Sacramento, or anywhere else in California, unless you want to find yourself knee-deep in a lawsuit," she warned.

With that, Van Pelt turned and walked purposefully out of the office, Lisbon and Rigsby following close behind, leaving a stunned Hightower sitting at her desk like a statue, staring at the open door.

She was halfway to the bullpen when she heard Lisbon's footsteps hurrying behind her.

"Van Pelt!" Lisbon called.

Grace immediately stopped and turned to face her boss and Rigsby.

"Grace," Lisbon corrected, breathlessly, softening her tone. "Grace, are you sure about this?" the petite woman pleaded. "This is your career we're talking about here; this is not something you want to throw away lightly!" She paused, and smiled softly. "And I would _really_ hate to lose one of my best agents," she finished sadly.

Van Pelt regarded her boss gratefully.

"Thanks boss," she replied affectionately. "I know, and I know I just took a…" she sucked in a shaky breath, giggling nervously as the enormity of the situation hit her, "_huge_, potentially career-damaging risk," she admitted, then paused, her gaze turning inward for an instant as she pondered the consequences of her actions. "I never meant to lose control like that, and I _certainly_ never thought I'd ever tell off Hightower," she exhaled.

"It was the principle," she stated simply. Lisbon smiled softly in understanding. "Who I work for, whether the CBI or someone else, will not tell me 'it's one _or_ the other'," she said evenly, "and if the man I love," she smiled at Rigsby, who smiled back, "also _happens_ to work with me, well…" she trailed off. "Not their business if I'm good at my job," she shrugged.

Lisbon just stared at the red-headed young woman in amazement, her green eyes glowing, just a little, in sisterly pride. As the only other woman on her team, she'd always felt a natural kinship with Van Pelt, but as the Boss had always had to suppress it. And yes, she'd felt bad that she'd had to keep them apart; enforcing that rule hadn't diminished their professionalism, but it _had_ unfortunately increased, rather than lessened, the occasional awkwardness between them. It had been terribly unfair.

Lisbon sighed and shook her head slightly, then reached out to hug her warmly.

"The team won't be the same without you," she assured her in a hushed voice. "Not just the team; _I'll_ miss you, Grace," she added softly, and pulled away. "You were, _are_," she corrected, "a damn good agent. One of the best." She leaned in closely, as did Grace.

"Don't tell _anyone_ I said this," she murmured, her eyes sparkling, "but I'm damn proud of you!"

Grace simply smiled tearfully as Lisbon walked away, leaving her and Rigsby in the open corridor. Silently, he gently took her by the arm, and led her back down the hall, around a corner, away from traffic. The minute they were alone, he wrapped his arms around her.

"Oh, I too, am _so_ proud of you, Grace," he murmured against her hair. She returned his embrace, reveling in being in his arms. After a brief moment, she pulled away slightly to look at him.

"I meant what I said, Wayne," she reiterated, looking into his eyes. "I won't speak for you; if you _don't_ want me anymore, if you want to stay with CBI, I'll understand. I don't expect you to up and quit just for me," she said, and then her expression turned wary upon realizing he might _not_ want her, that it might all have been for nothing.

"Are you kidding?" he softly exclaimed, reaching up with one hand to cup her face. "Of _course_ I still love you," he murmured, and her smile returned. "Maybe even more than before, knowing what you'd give up for me," he whispered in awe, shaking his head in amazement. They were both silent for a moment, and he pulled his arms away, keeping her hands in his.

"Grace," he spoke again. "I _do_ love this job, _and_ I love the CBI," he began, and she nodded anxiously. "But I'm a cop, I was an arson investigator; I can work anywhere. I just want to be with _you_."

She exhaled, relieved, and nodded in agreement.

"I understand. I hate to leave; I love it here too," she admitted. "Maybe the CBI will change its policies," she shrugged, falling back on her natural optimism. "Maybe not, and if that's the case, well, it's a shame. If two people really care about each other, make each other happy, they'll be happier people, better employees. And, if they _choose _to break up, then the bosses should treat them like the _adults _they are, and trust them to handle it."

There was another pause for a couple of beats.

"So, what happens now?" she asked, letting him take the lead. "Where do we go from here?"

His face went blank for a second, and then an idea struck.

"Free for lunch?" he asked cheekily, and smirked.

She blinked, and then a huge smile slowly stretched across her face, and she nodded.

"Yeah," she answered happily, a giggle escaping her.

They turned and walked, hand in hand, back up the hallway, bypassing the bullpen, toward the elevator. They waited in easy silence, and when the doors finally opened, they stepped in together. Wrapping her arm lightly around his waist, she leaned into him, resting her head against his neck, sighing contentedly when he wrapped _his_ arm around her shoulder.

With the events from the last twenty surreal minutes still swirling around her head like little cartoon birds, Grace wondered, 'what _will_ happen next?', and felt a small spike of panic. But when she felt the kiss pressed against her temple, and Rigsby's barely-audible "I love you, Grace", she knew somehow it would all work out.

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whew! I shall leave it to you, kind readers, to decide whether Rigsby stays at CBI, or follows Grace. It is _entirely_ up to you.

coming next…_Hightower's_ _Revenge_…just kidding:)! This is the end of this story, there is no sequel.


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